


Part-Time Prostitute

by The_Muses_of_Mars



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-09 01:21:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11658654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Muses_of_Mars/pseuds/The_Muses_of_Mars
Summary: Wealthy business tycoon Ignis Scientia can afford to buy anything he could ever want. But what happens when his desire is for the heart of a beautiful male prostitute who is more interested in a thrill than a gil? (A/U)





	1. Falsely Charged

**Author's Note:**

> IgNoct Week Day 1, Timed Quest: "Is that a dagger in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

Ignis had only seen the boy a few times in passing, but he couldn’t get him out of his mind.

Staring at his dripping wet reflection in the bathroom mirror of his mansion in Insomnia, the wealthy business tycoon and owner of Scientia Shrapnel, the largest bladesmith and weapons manufacturer in Lucis, knew he must be mad. He watched rivulets cascade down his neck and splashed his face with cold water one last time, a futile attempt to talk himself out of what he was about to do.

By happenstance his limousine had driven past the Red Light District near the slums of Insomnia, the capital city of Lucis. There, while the car was stalled by a traffic light, he had set eyes on a beautiful young man with a petite frame and long, jet black hair. At a glance his heart had been stolen. Since then he had made sure to pass through the district often, using various excuses: it was a shortcut to the gym; it was near a quaint café that served the best Ebony brand coffee in the city; he admired a statue of Shiva in the picturesque square just beyond the District’s borders. He drove past the night club from where he’d first seen the boy emerge nearly every day now on his way home from his office building. He did not see the boy often, not nearly often enough, but every brief glance was worth it.

The boy was always, to his chagrin, in the company of one man or another. He supposed it was reasonable to assume he simply dated often, and with looks like his that was by no means a stretch of the imagination. But he didn’t want to fool himself; he was old enough and wise enough to recognize a prostitute when he saw one. Of course, he had never paid anyone for sex before. But now, tonight, he was considering making an exception.

There had hardly been anything to consider. Yes, it was true he could ruin his reputation and his business in one fell swoop should they be discovered. If someone recognized him, one of the three wealthiest men in Insomnia—third only to casino mogul Ravus Nox Fleuret and King Regis Lucis Caelum himself—it would take but one telephone call to the police (or, heaven forbid, the press) to destroy him completely. He would have to be very, very careful. He felt certain the boy would know of a discreet hotel that could be trusted to keep their business private. All he had to do was find him.

It was, however, the shadiest part of the city, Ignis reminded himself as he dressed in some of his nicest, most impressive business attire. He would tell his chauffeur he had theater tickets. There was a theater in the District, and though it most assuredly did not host operas, a low-rent version of some Broadway show would provide a reasonable alibi. He knew his Kiton suit might attract unwanted attention, so he strapped on a concealment holster in lieu of his usual suspenders and slipped a dagger into its sheath. The weapon was one of his own making, a one-of-a-kind that was engraved with his company’s logo and his own name. Its picture had been featured in countless magazines and was his pride and joy. Best of all, it was sharp, if he had to use it. And he knew how to.

 

His driver let him off across the street from the theater. “Thank you very much, Gladio. I’ll ring you when I’m ready to be taken home.”

“Yes, Sir,” the driver answered.

Ignis stepped out of the car and crossed the street to the theater to join the small, less-than-best-dressed crowd milling about in front of the doors. He pretended to know where he was and what he was doing until he was certain the limo was out of sight, then, ignoring the stares and snide comments his attire earned him, he began cruising the street in search of the boy who had caught his eye.

He had anticipated it to take a while to find the object of his lust and admiration, but it did not.

He had _not_ expected the boy to already be on the arm of some John or other.

The dark-haired beauty was walking arm-in-arm with a shabbily-dressed redhead in a long coat and ridiculous hat in the opposite direction of a dive bar that reeked of smoke and gin. The man was walking in a swaggering way that made Ignis think he was either very drunk or very confident. He hoped it was the former because he had never tried to hire a hooker before and was even less certain of how to go about stealing one from another man.

The tall redhead was waving his free arm theatrically and speaking in a deep, admittedly attractive voice. Ignis ignored whatever he said but his ears perked up when he heard the boy laugh. His voice was deeper than he’d imagined. It was sexy. The sound of it made him shiver.

“Excuse me,” Ignis called out loudly, interrupting the redhead mid-sentence. Both men, arms still linked, turned their heads and looked at him. The boy’s face was even more gorgeous up close, and though his heart was pounding wildly, Ignis knew he was doing the right thing. “Pardon me,” he said boldly again, his white teeth shining brilliantly as he plastered a smile on his face. “Didn’t we have a date?” he asked, looking at the dark-haired beauty as if they knew each other.

“Uh…huh?” The boy looked at him with clear confusion.

“Oh, dear!” the redhead sighed wistfully. “My darling, it seems you’ve double-booked your clients. You naughty boy.” He chuckled as if he were truly amused. He unlinked their arms, took the boy’s hand, and kissed it. “It appears you’ve a choice to make.”

Both men stared at him expectantly. One was dressed like royalty; the other, a beggar.

Though in his mind the boy was nothing short of an angel, Ignis was relieved his common sense for his own welfare took precedence over his kindness for once as the boy slowly stepped closer to him.

“You know, I think I _have_ made a mistake,” he said smoothly, slipping his hand into Ignis’s. “You’ll forgive me this time, won’t you, Ardyn?”

“Of course,” the other man sang good-naturedly. “I am at a clear disadvantage.” He looked at Ignis and gestured at his fine suit. “How can I compete? Run along and enjoy yourselves. I’ll see you next Wednesday, then, my dear.”

The man bowed with a flourish. The boy gave him a little nod and a smile, then quickly forgot about him as he turned to face the tall man with the glasses and expensive suit. “Nice to see you again, gorgeous,” he said with a grin.

Ignis blushed. He actually felt his face warm from the boy’s practiced praise. He adjusted his glasses to distract from his reddened cheeks and confessed, “Oh, we don’t really know each other. I just… I’ve seen you around. And I must say, you are beyond beautiful…”

The boy sighed impatiently, dropping his hand to cross his arms. “There’s no need for flattery, you know. That’s not what I need.”

“Oh—I know,” Ignis said quickly. Now his ears felt hot.

“Let’s go someplace quiet,” the boy said. “I know a place. It’s this way.” He started across the street and Ignis hurried after him.

He expected they would use the taxi machine in front of the building they approached to call a car to take them to a more private destination, but the boy kept walking, squeezing down a narrow alley between an apartment building and a condemned warehouse.

“Where are we going?” Ignis asked, growing apprehensive. “Can’t we go to a hotel or…something?”

“Oh, sure. And while we’re at it, I’ll book us a cruise to Altissia.” The boy rolled his eyes. “ _You’re_ paying _me_ , remember, John?”

Ignis was quiet for a moment. This was as dirty as he had always imagined the prostitution business to be. Why had his heart been set on something more…romantic? “My name is Iggy,” he said evenly. “May I ask yours?”

“Noctgar.” The boy answered without hesitation, but still Ignis wondered if the name was a lie.

“Very well—Noctgar. I must confess, I’ve never done this sort of thing before, so…”

“Oh, sugar, that’s what they all tell me,” the boy chuckled with amusement. “But I’ll play along. First things first: you pay me.”

This wasn’t romantic at all. It wasn’t even sexy. As beautiful as the boy was—as impossibly, indescribably beautiful—Ignis was beginning to fear he would not perform well under these circumstances. The hum of halogen street lights, the stench of the garbage bins in the alley, the scurrying rodents and buzzing insects all had rather killed the mood and dampened his excitement for this forbidden encounter.

“Money is no concern. I have plenty of cash.”

“I can’t take your word for it. Let’s see it, honey.” Noctgar moved closer. Ignis took a step back and found himself pressed to the grimy wall of an unfamiliar brick building while the boy reached into his fifty-thousand-gil suit jacket and fondled him for his wallet. But that wasn’t what he found.

“Oh! Is that a dagger in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

“It—it’s a dagger,” Ignis explained unnecessarily as the boy pulled the sharp blade free of its sheath and held it up to the moonlight for inspection. “Please do be careful. It’s quite sharp.”

“I see that… I hope you weren’t planning to use it on me.” Noctgar raised his brow as he held the dagger level between them.

“Of course not,” Ignis said, gingerly capturing the blade from the boy’s hand and returning it to its holder. “It’s for protection.”

“Speaking of protection, do you have any condoms?”

Ignis swallowed, a little taken aback somehow at the sudden shift in topic. He wondered again if he could actually go through with this. “I do,” he confessed slowly. “Do you?”

“Of course I do. But there’s no reason for me to spend my hard-earned money when a rich guy like you could replace your stash more easily. Make sense?”

“I take your point.”

“Well? Get them out.” Noctgar reached for Ignis’s belt and began unbuckling it. “Let’s get this show on the road, hot stuff. I’ve got other customers waiting.”

Ignis frowned. He was liking this less and less, and now most especially he was coming to realize he’d made a mistake in coming here. This wasn’t some movie; he wasn’t Richard Gere come to sweep a beautiful boy off his feet and turn him into a pampered housewife. The best he could hope for was to satisfy his curiosity and pray to the Six no one ever found out about this.

He had taken a wrapped condom—one of four—from the inside pocket of his jacket, but had not yet handed it to the boy when Noctgar dropped to his knees. He was feeling him out with his hand—his very talented hand. It seemed performance wasn’t going to be an issue, after all.

Noctgar squeezed and rubbed in all the right ways in all the right places, until Ignis forgot the filth and rough bricks assaulting the back of his jacket and leaned against it carelessly as the boy worked to arouse him. He was panting in no time, and when Noctgar’s face pressed to his groin, nuzzling his hardness through the fabric of his trousers, he let out a weak cry.

The boy unzipped Ignis's pants, tugging them just over the jut of his hips. If he was as amused by the Armani label of his briefs as he appeared to be by the rest of his ensemble, he said nothing, instead drawing the waistband down to reveal the coarse ash blond hair below Ignis’s navel. Then he drew out the man’s cock, which was so hard now it was aching.

And then it was in the boy’s mouth. Ignis released another soft cry. How had he ever doubted this would be anything short of ecstasy? He lost his free hand in the boy’s hair as Noctgar's dark head bobbed gently against Ignis's crotch, throwing his head back in a silent scream.

His dick fell from the boy’s lips as Noctgar reached up and wordlessly took the condom from him. Ignis placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders, his eyes closed as he listened to the foil tear.

Even the touch of the boy’s fingers as they rolled the condom along the shaft of his dick was sensual. Ignis groaned as Noctgar stroked him, gripping his hardness with an experienced hand. The cool night air against his exposed pelvis was a sharp contrast to the sudden pleasant heat of the boy’s mouth as he once again found himself taken into its warm embrace.

Ignis adjusted his stance as Noctgar began sucking him, massaging the boy’s shoulders in encouragement even as his own hips began to thrust toward his face. They were just building a steady rhythm together when suddenly they were interrupted by a blaring mechanical voice.

“STOP! YOU ARE HEREBY ORDERED TO CEASE AND DESIST. YOUR ACTION IS IN DIRECT VIOLATION OF THE MONARCHIC CODE OF CIVILIAN REGULATIONS, TITLE 139 SECTION 92, PROHIBITING THE EXPOSURE OF GENITALIA FOR THE PURPOSE OF SEX ACTS COMMITTED IN THE PUBLIC DOMAIN.”

Ignis’s eyes were wide with shock behind the lenses of his glasses, even though the robotic police unit was flashing its lights in his eyes so brightly he couldn’t even see it.

Noctgar had drawn back and twisted around to face the android. “Fuck,” he cursed, holding up one hand to protect his eyes and wiping the lubrication from the condom from his lips with the other. “I didn’t even get paid yet.”

“STOP! YOU ARE HEREBY ORDERED TO CEASE AND DESIST. YOUR ACTION IS IN DIRECT VIOLATION OF THE MONARCHIC CODE OF CIVILIAN REGULATIONS, TITLE 139 SECTION 94, PROHIBITING THE EXCHANGE OF MONETARY CREDITS FOR THE TRADE OF SEXUAL FAVORS.”

“Noctgar, hurry up and leave before it scans you and obtains your identification,” Ignis warned, quickly zipping his slacks while the boy rose to his feet. “I’ll keep it busy.”

“STOP! YOU ARE HEREBY ORDERED TO CEASE AND DESIST. YOUR ACTION IS IN DIRECT VIOLATION OF THE MONARCHIC CODE OF CIVILIAN REGULATIONS, TITLE 84 SECTION 12, OBSTRUCTION OF LEGAL FUNCTIONS OF A POLICE FORCE ROBOTIC UNIT.”

“Cancel those charges,” Noctgar demanded confidently. “Authorization code RHS-113, identification: Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum.”

The boy stood perfectly still while the robotic police unit performed a suspicious retinal scan. Then it finally stopped whirring and blaring and flashing its lights at them, muttering to itself about canceling a call for backup and deleting the charges it had just attempted to file with the Police Department of Insomnia.

Noct sighed heavily, then turned to face Iggy with his arms outstretched. “I guess I’m busted.”

“What? Who? How on Eos?” Ignis could not put the pieces together and understand the full puzzle.

“You heard me.” Noct put a hand on his hip and shrugged his slim shoulder. “I’m the Crown Prince of Lucis. Don’t you read Forbes? GQ? Playgirl?”

“Don’t _you?_ ” Ignis snapped back at the boy. “I have a multi-billion dollar corporation at stake here. My reputation could be damaged. I could be ruined!”

“Relax, Specs,” Noct laughed. “It’s taken care of.”

“But—”

“It’s a done deal. You’re safe. Your company’s safe, your reputation, yadda-yadda… And,” the boy added with a gleam in his eye, “it just so happens I _do_ have a room available, if you wanna go back to my place.”

“Y-your place?” Ignis stammered.

“Yeah. My bedroom. At the Royal Citadel.” Noctis jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “That’s where I’m heading now. Do you want to join me?”

“I-I beg your pardon!” Ignis seemed affronted. “I don’t even know you.”

Noct crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s funny, cause five minutes ago you wanted to fuck me. Is that not the case now?”

Ignis swallowed guiltily. He’d been so startled and afraid by his near-arrest he’d almost forgotten why he came here. “I suppose it is.”

“Well, make up your mind fast. The limo’s on its way.” Without looking back to see whether or not he was being followed, Noctis turned on his heel and headed back up the alley the way they’d come to wait for Cor, his limo driver, to take him home.


	2. Confession

Ignis should have run in the opposite direction. He’d already had one close call tonight and been disillusioned by the lovely creature he’d sought to make his own, so the wise thing to do would have been to go home and put the boy out of his mind for good. Instead he followed after him as quickly as possible, more afraid of losing sight of the object of his desire in the dark alley than of being arrested and having his mug shot become front page news in the morning.

That should have been a red flag, a sign he wasn’t thinking clearly. But Ignis left his common sense on the curb and climbed into the back of the prince’s limo without any hesitation.

 

The ride to the Citadel was a strange and silent one. If Ignis had doubts this boy was truly the prince of Lucis, they were quickly put to rest as he watched the practiced ease with which the beauty helped himself to the champagne in the back of the limousine. He was poised and graceful without trying, but just rough enough around the edges to elicit Ignis’s curiosity in spite of himself. Noctis offered him a drink, but Ignis declined with a shake of his head. He didn’t trust his hand to be steady enough to hold a glass. Besides, he should be worrying about how to get himself out of this mess, but he ignored the urge to throw himself out the quickly moving car and instead watched the supposed prince with a wild-eyed gaze.

They didn’t speak until the car was pulling up to the heavily-guarded gates of the Citadel, which for all intents and purposes served as Insomnia’s royal palace. Their driver, Cor Leonis, rolled down the driver’s side window. Seated facing the rear, Ignis glanced back over his shoulder as he watched the chauffeur began a verbal exchange with the armed gate guard. He quickly turned away again and bent his chin against his shoulder to hide his face from prying eyes. How would he explain the business that had brought him to the Citadel—and at such an hour?

Noctis watched him with a bemused expression, thoughtfully sipping his champagne. Ignis stole a glance at the boy, feeling ashamed and irritated to find himself in this predicament. With his slender legs crossed at the knees, Noctis was a vision of elegance even in baggy jeans and a shabby T-shirt. It was both obvious and shocking that he might in fact be royalty. Regardless, Ignis had no business being in his company.

After only a moment’s discussion with the guard, Cor rolled his window up and they started forward again, this time driving more slowly. Ignis wasn’t certain whether he was reassured or starting to panic. It was a relief the guards hadn’t demanded to see his identification or to know the reason for his late night visit, but now that they had bypassed the security checkpoint, how was he to leave?

The limo pulled up to the front steps leading toward the twin towers of the Citadel, but Noctis made no move to exit the car until the driver was standing beside him, holding his door open. Ignis could see the building before them lit up as if with firelight, warning him that behind those hundreds of glass windowpanes were hundreds of people, each pair of eyes a chance to be seen and recognized and outed. Exiting the vehicle would be risky, but did he really intend to come this far and not stay?

Wordlessly, the prince climbed out of the car and pushed his half-empty champagne glass into Cor’s hand, leaving the chauffeur to deal with it as Ignis once more disregarded his better judgment and scrambled to catch up. The boy had startled him into action, and there was little he could do now but follow the prince up the palace steps.

It was late enough in the evening not many Citadel staff members were still milling about the foyer. Those who passed by them bowed respectfully in the prince’s direction, but Noctis ignored them and only glanced back once to see that Ignis was keeping up as he led him through a hall adored with portraits of the royal family and toward a set of guarded elevators. The sentinels were the only ones who did not bow to the prince or greet him with “Highness.” But they were the ones who made Ignis the most nervous.

Noctis left one of the uniformed men to call the elevator for them. Ignis tried to avoid the sentries’ eyes, wishing either that the prince would make some excuse for his presence or that everyone would overlook him completely. It would have been humiliating to admit he’d come here with the expectation he would soon bed the boy, but the silent judgment he was imagining for doing so was equally dreadful.

At last a soft chime notified them the elevator had arrived on the ground floor to carry them away. The doors parted and Noctis didn’t hesitate to step inside, but Ignis did. If he was going to regain his senses at all, now was the time to do so.

The boy turned and looked at him, holding a button to keep the doors open. He asked without emotion, “Are you coming?”

Ignis wanted to ask him, “Do you want me to?” but he was afraid of the answer. So instead he silently stepped onto the elevator, and the doors slid closed behind him.

He turned to face the doors and stood quietly next to the prince, his own pulse pounding in his ears. What was he thinking? Did he sincerely intend to follow the Crown Prince of Lucis to his bedroom? He was chagrined to have to consider whether or not he would still be expected to pay if he did.

Noctis leaned his shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed as the elevator ascended and at long last came to a halt on the 30th floor. This must be the private dwelling of the royal family, for this time the elevator doors would not open until Noctis entered a code into the keypad above the other buttons.

The doors parted, then Noctis stepped out of the elevator and into a hallway far more extravagant and less sterile than the one downstairs. There were guards posted here, too, but they didn’t bow and Noctis paid them no attention as he led the way along lavish halls with thick carpets, potted plants, decorative landscapes, velvet drapes, and soft lamplight. He finally came to a halt in front of a black door trimmed in gold, and jerked his head at the pair of sentries standing to either side in rapt attention.

“Why don’t you guys take the night off? I’ve got company.” The prince was ordering, not asking, and the guards stepped aside without protest. Then Noctis reached for the handle and pushed the unlocked door open. “Come on,” he called to Ignis, who was watching the guards trudge down the hall as he wondered how often the prince brought strange men home and how used to being dismissed the staff were.

Still feeling uncertain and unnerved, Ignis followed the prince into what he assumed to be his private chambers. Noctis closed the door behind them and began to step away. “Shouldn’t you…?” Ignis started, feeling embarrassed as the boy turned his gaze on him. “That is…would you mind locking the door?” he finished weakly. He prayed Noctis would not ask him why and make him explain.

“No one’s going to barge in,” Noctis answered with a shrug, “but if it’ll make you feel more comfortable…”

Thankfully, he turned the lock.

Ignis adjusted his glasses embarrassedly. “Thank you.”

“Let me pour you a drink, Iggy,” Noctis offered, lightly touching Ignis’s shoulder as he walked past on his way deeper into the room. “You seem tense.”

“You can hardly blame me,” Ignis said, flustered. “This isn’t quite the evening I had envisioned.” He finally took a moment to have a look at his surroundings, finding himself in what appeared to be a spacious den. Tasteful furnishings were placed evenly around a towering entertainment center stacked high with video game consoles, controllers, games, and massive speakers that made him wonder whether or not the king actually shared a floor with his son. It was a question he didn’t dare ask.

“Oh, right—you wanted to score with a hooker.” Noctis sounded amused. He moved across the room past a standing island and toward a large cabinet that opened to reveal a minibar even a man of Ignis’s wealth and status would envy. The prince plucked a pair of wine glasses from the available stemware as he added, “We can still make that happen, if it’s what you want.”

Again Ignis refrained from asking the boy of his own desires. And speaking of which, he still wore the condom from the alley and it was growing uncomfortable. “Is there a place where I might…freshen up?”

“Right through that door.” Tucking a glass beneath his arm, Noctis gestured with the neck of a wine bottle. “Sparkling rosé all right with you?”

“That sounds…very nice,” Ignis said after a slight pause. Had they been entirely alone, in a clandestine hotel room, the choice in drink would have been perfectly romantic. But knowing just beyond the apartment door lurked security guards and other palace employees, not to mention King Regis Lucis Caelum himself, put quite a damper on the mood.

Ignis walked stiffly over to the door Noctis had indicated and stepped into a very elegant bathroom. Obviously built for royalty, it contained a large, oval bathtub, a counter with two sinks beneath a large mirror, and, of course, a toilet and bidet. The flowers adorning most every available surface were real, and scented candles had already been lit for the prince’s enjoyment. And for the enjoyment of his company, perhaps?

Ignis closed the door and locked it for good measure, then unzipped his slacks. His black Armani briefs were smeared with lubricant stains from the condom. How unromantic.

Ignis peeled the rubber off and wadded it into a tissue before tossing it into the waste bin. He tried to console himself as he cleaned up that maybe he wouldn’t be sleeping with the prince, anyway, but the thought wasn’t exactly comforting. After all this, it would be disappointing to not get what he came here for. But if he had any sense at all, he would be looking for the nearest exit and concocting an excuse to give his own limo driver.

Once he’d made himself as presentable as possible, Ignis walked back out into the lounge and found the prince waiting with two half-filled wine glasses. By now he’d nearly made up his mind to leave, so instead of accepting a drink he politely refused.

“Thank you, but I think it best if I just go home.”

Noctis looked surprised, if not disappointed. “What? But, why? You just got here.”

“I wasn’t thinking clearly when I followed you. I saw you from afar and took a fancy. Without fully considering the consequences, I made an unfortunate pass at you. And now here we are.”

“Here we are,” Noctis repeated, looking up at the blond as if he’d lost his mind. “So why did you come onto me so strongly, using that line about having a date with me, when you could see I was with another man?”

Ignis blinked behind his glasses. “Obviously because I-I wanted you.”

“And…now you don’t?” Noctis cocked his head dubiously.

Ignis looked at him. He was stunning, and the setting made no difference. Whether in a seedy district or a posh palace, wearing royal raiment or a T-shirt and jeans, the boy was lovely beyond measure.

“You’re hesitating.” Now the prince was amused. He stretched out his arm and offered Ignis the glass of wine for a second time. “If you need time to think about what you want, take it. Just…don’t leave yet. You might regret it.”

“I might regret staying,” Ignis retorted, but this time he accepted the drink.

“Not as much as you would regret leaving without getting what you want.” Noctis clinked the rim of his glass against Ignis’s. “Cheers.”

Ignis couldn’t think of a sharp response quickly enough, so he joined the prince in a toast. The wine was flavorful and refreshing, and would no doubt dull his judgment, Ignis thought wryly. But he’d come this far; perhaps he should take it all the way.

“May I ask you something?” Ignis started slowly.

“Yep, and I won’t even charge you for my answer.” Noctis set his wine glass down on the bar counter and hopped up onto it, his slender legs dangling.

Unable to notice how sexy the boy looked, perched up there and giving him his full attention, Ignis felt his face grow warm. But he wanted to know, “Why are you doing this?”

Noctis shrugged, reaching out to grab hold of Ignis’s tie. He wound it around his left wrist and used his grip to pull the taller man closer. “You seemed pretty desperate. And that made me curious.”

“I wasn’t— I don’t mean bringing _me_ here, specifically,” Ignis stammered. “I’m curious to know why you play these games.”

“Games?”

“Pretending to be a…male escort.” Ignis chose a delicate term.

“Who’s pretending?”

“But you’re the Crown Prince!” Ignis gasped. “Why would you solicit offers of strange men and have them pay for your company? Surely you don’t need the money.” He gestured at the extravagant room around them. “Why take such risks—with your reputation, your health?”

“Other than for the obvious reason of having my cake and eating it, too?” Noctis laughed.

“I’m being serious.” Ignis unfurled his tie from around the boy’s forearm. “I don’t understand why you would do such a thing.”

“For all the sex I want, and a little spending cash, too. Seems like a good deal.”

“But you’re royalty.” Ignis was bewildered. “Not to mention beautiful. You want for nothing; lovers or material goods, everything you desire is at your beck and call.”

“Then why would _you_ pick up a stranger on the street, Ignis Scientia, when a handsome, wealthy bachelor like _you_ could have anyone?” Noctis countered.

Ignis was slightly taken aback. “You…know who I am.”

“Your name is on your dagger,” Noctis reminded him. “Your very _famous_ dagger.”

“Ah.” Ignis patted his chest, feeling the firmness of the weapon beneath the fabric of his jacket. “As I told you…I saw you, and I thought you were the most beautiful man I had ever set eyes upon. I could not help but want you—even if I had to steal your attention from someone else.” As Noctis’s lips began to curl into a pleased smile and he wrapped his arms around Ignis’s neck to draw him even closer, the blond entreated, “I’ve told you the sincere truth. Now aren’t you going to answer _my_ question honestly?”

“I already have.” Noctis released his hold on the older man, instead picking up his drink again. “I’m sure there are plenty of beautiful men drooling all over your shoes,” he muttered, then lifted his gaze to meet Ignis’s, “but you wanted the man who was off-limits, the one it would be dangerous to have.” He jumped down from the island counter and Ignis stepped back nervously as the smaller man came at him. “Was it the excitement of doing something forbidden? The thrill of taking what you wanted, knowing there could be dire consequences but saying ‘fuck it,’ and taking it anyway?” Ignis couldn’t deny it. Noctis shrugged and turned away from him. “Then you understand how I feel.”

From Ignis’s recollection, the prince of Lucis was only twenty-one years old, but he seemed wise beyond his years. Ignis was only twenty-three, himself, but he had always been mature for his age. In fact, he had taken control of the family business four years ago, after his uncle’s stroke. Under his fresh, keen management, Scientia Shrapnel had thrived, tripling its average annual profits in the first quarter of Ignis’s leadership. After seeing what his nephew could do, Ignis’s uncle had formally passed the torch on and the company had a new CEO who was both a prodigy and a paragon.

His own was a well-known story, but what Ignis knew of Noctis was that the Lucian prince remained well below the radar. Was he studious? Did he party? No one was certain. He was a complete mystery. He did not make public appearances, so Ignis would have had no way of knowing how very beautiful he was, or that the boy he had taken such an intense interest in was no common streetwalker.

But Ignis was beginning to get the impression Prince Noctis didn’t care for his gilded cage.

The prince took another drink of his rosé, then met Ignis’s silence with vehemence. “I’m told where to go, what to do, how to dress, and who to see. Now that we’re getting better acquainted, do I strike you as someone who could live like that?”

Ignis hazarded a guess. “I suppose not.”

“You’re goddamned right.” Noctis threw back his glass and finished the last of his wine. “Here, as Prince Noctis, I have to dress up and say ‘Yes, Sir,’ and parade around like someone’s toy soldier; out there, as Noctgar, I can go wherever I want and _fuck_ whoever I want, and nobody else has any say in that.”

The boy’s eyes were so bright and wild, Ignis couldn’t bear to look at them. He lowered his gaze to the rose-colored liquid in his own glass, feeling a strange sort of sympathy for the prince. He still thought creeping around with strange men in dark alleys was a rather excessive act of rebellion, but who was he to judge? So, he confessed, “I see your point.”

“Do you?” Noctis demanded. He was still staring at him with an unfamiliar intensity. Was he searching for something—empathy, a shoulder to cry on, or just the truth?

This time Ignis made himself look at Noctis. “Yes. I do.”

Noct set his empty glass on the counter and approached Ignis again. He reached up and unexpectedly—but gently—removed the tall blond’s glasses. Ignis’s vision wasn’t so terrible that he couldn’t make out the delicate features of the boy’s face without his spectacles when he stood right before him, but he wasn’t sure he knew what was going on behind the prince’s stormy blue eyes.

Then the boy asked, “Did you come here to fuck me?”

Ignis paused, drawing a thoughtful breath before replying. “I’m not sure why I came.”

“Do you want to fuck me now?” Noctis’s voice was husky.

Ignis met his gaze tenderly. “I’d like to make love with you, yes.”

Noctis set Ignis’s glasses down on an end table and took hold of his free hand. “Then let’s do it.”


End file.
